If I were to walk into a room full of people and ask them: raise your hand if you would like to be
happy, I can quite confidently say a vast majority of the hands, if not all, would go right up. Happiness,
it seems, is something everyone wants. It is often portrayed as an ultimate goal, and we frequently take
great measures in the attempt to somehow achieve this emotion or state. Yet, the definition of happiness
seems vague. What does it mean to be happy? Is it quantifiable? Qualitative? Individualist? How do we
pursue it? Is it even attainable? In this issue we chose to seek out answers, and thus delved into the topic
that is, The Pursuit of Happiness.
As students, we seek to get admission into a certain university, a certain program, get into a specific
career field, attain a defined amount of wealth, have a certain kind of family, before we think we should
allow ourselves the permission to be happy. In our minds, we don’t allow ourselves to be happy until we
have reached this defined end.
Even personally, as I assess what it is that I wanted to be when I grew up, happiness wasn’t my default
response. We are never taught or given clear steps and guidelines as to what it means to be happy or to
reach happiness. However, we somehow assume that reaching our goals and aspirations, whatever they
may be, will inevitably make us a happy person. We believe we know what we need and want. We believe
we are the best authors of our story.
Yet, where I am today was not at all what I had planned or aspired for, and each time I was faced
with failure on my way to where I wanted to be, I found myself panicking. I felt as though my hopes of
attaining happiness had been lost forever because I wasn’t exactly where I had planned. But with each
failure came strength, understanding, and growth that I could not have attained if everything went just
as I had aspired and imagined it to be. In this way I learned to be flexible, and understand that what and
where I am supposed to be are self-imposed and restricting. Opening my eyes and mind to various other
possibilities and opportunities when I found myself at dead ends only helped me in ways I can’t begin
to count.

‘But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for
you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for
you. And Allah knows, while you know not’
[2:216]

PHOTO // UNSPLASH.COM

Hirra Sheikh,
Editor in Chief

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 03

An Obsession with

EXCESSIVE CONSUMPTION
and a

GROWING

CULTURE OF NARCISSISM

BY YASMINE KHERFI

W

e live in a technology-driven world that is constantly discovering innovative solutions to
modern social problems. However, can technologyâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the catalyst for development in the
present ageâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;address the problem of a global culture that increasingly breeds obsession with
over-the-edge wealth and a desire to boast of materialism? Though it torments the Muslim community
just as much as any other group, trends in materialism and narcissism are un-Islamic. Even if the
social pandemic of excessive materialism and the growing culture of narcissism that accompanies it is
normalized, we, as a community, should not hesitate to denounce what could be considered behavioral
social flaws. We must, in fact, be critical of our communities and be the first to condemn such behaviour.
One need not to be trained in Islamic jurisprudence to know that Islam places great value
on moderation in life, and by the same token, warns against the harms of excessiveness. Yet, many
Muslims overlook this important aspect of the religion. They adhere to hyper-consumerism and, rather
than demonstrating discipline and balance in their lives, they buy into the shimmering illusions of the
luxurious life, chasing it as if it were the antidote to all human suffering.

4 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

Needless to say, it is challenging to standardize—
let alone interpret—“moderation”. Despite ambiguities
in the interpretation of this word, one should not feel
restrained to speak up and criticize social norms and their
perverse effects on humanity. While we may not have an
undisputed and well-calibrated measure of moderation,
we have documented changes in social behaviour that
legitimize this discussion.
To be clear, the desire for wealth as a means to
a purposeful goal falls far from the infatuation with
money that has deceived many. While realizing that we
are capable of maximizing our potential is wonderful,
allowing materialistic needs to overwhelm our thoughts is
not Islamic, not healthy, and is not necessarily the antidote
to success. Our end goal should not be solely defined in
materialistic components. In spite of that, many Muslims
foster a yearning to display wealth and status, rather than
using such power in ways that can effectively help the
community, such as supporting and participating in local
initiatives, and contributing ideas for social progress.

While virtual platforms are effective marketing tools
for growing brands, it is important to highlight that their
fast-paced propagation on the Internet increases our
exposure, not only to promotional advertisements, but to
a particular way of life: a luxurious one that we are called
to aspire for. The outpour of articles on how to “live like
the 1%” or “become a billionaire”, along with the strong
presence of luxurious lifestyle accounts on social media
platforms like Instagram and Pinterest all contribute to
the crafting of a very superficial and ego-based definition
of success. Nowadays, the image of success is not only
measured in materialistic terms, but also dependent on the
extent to which we choose to market it on social media. In
particular, there is a disturbing need to constantly flaunt
accomplishment after accomplishment on the internet,
as if it is the sole medium through which success can be
legitimized. Many of us realize that doing so does not
make us happier, and yet, we still do it. The question then
becomes: why do we consciously partake in this visibly
unhealthy virtual frenzy, when it does absolutely nothing
to change our reality?

The obsession with wealth reduces the idea of a good
life to whether or not we get the largest pay-check, drive
the best sports car and live in the perfect dream home. It
distorts our perception of life, which becomes nothing but
a succession of feel-good purchases, each bringing nonlasting satisfaction. Throughout this process, people tend
to forget their blessings and the importance of exerting
gratitude. Most importantly though, it seems that people
have forgotten that happiness and peace of mind are not
things that can be bought or acquired through wealth.

The truth is, social media platforms offer users an
effective outlet for narcissism, as well as ways to proudly
show off their lavish lifestyles (whether they are real
or imagined). Towards this end, many Muslims have
exploited this medium. Has social media corrupted our
culture to this extent? Is boasting forever cemented in
our daily activities? Has narcissism become an adopted
rhetoric because of social media? Or is technology merely
revealing a flawed aspect of humanity that has been within
us all along?

Obsessions with wealth and materialism are part of
a broader, globalized social dynamic that is by no means
limited to the Muslim community. Indeed, we are partially
conditioned to associate what is of monetary value to
happiness. However, because engagement in blatantly
wasteful spending is the very antithesis of Islam’s notion
of moderation, as a Muslim, it should not be glorified,
let alone encouraged in our community and beyond. It is
our duty to spread social awareness and re-evaluate our
current approach to consumption and boastful behaviour.

We cannot disregard our problematic preoccupation
with appearances and people’s opinions. We must stop
seeking extensive external validation to feel happy.
People have to realize that this internalized need to
brag, is not only emotionally unsatisfying, but also unIslamic. Likewise, material aspirations must be tempered.
Obsession with excessive consumption leaves little room
for spiritual growth and ways to advance the community’s
social wellbeing. We must stop pretending that this is okay
and we must devise strategies to restore more balanced
lives.

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 5

I

ronically, my journey to learning about ‘movers and shakers’
BY BUSHRA SIDDIQUI
started with a lazy afternoon; assignments were left unfinished,
books were left unread, dirty dishes were untouched. Deadlines
Two sentences in, I closed it. The quality was at 240p! Can you
were fast approaching but I was binge watching BuzzFeed Videos, believe it? Was I living in the dark ages? I needed more pixels than that!
as one naturally does to avoid work.
So I found a better version called “Muslim Teens Set Goals! Part 1-3”
And I was pleasantly surprised by the content. Below I detail some of
I was on a roll, finishing my second consecutive playlist of the best parts in the lecture.
videos, when a recommendation on the side of the screen caught
my eye. It read, “Be Creative and Pursue a Right Career.” At first I Ustadh Noman Khan notes, Muslims in this country, for a long time,
thought it was just another lame ad trying to get me to enrol in a we have not been creative … our idea of a good career is limited to four
random, no-one-has-heard-about, college, but then I saw Ustadh or five things and if your children are not graduating in these four or
Noman Ali Khan on the thumbnail.
five fields then they have failed in life. And what are these four or five
fields you may ask? He states, “lets start with Jannat al-Firdous,” – that
“Muslims in this country, for a long
is, the highest of the highest career paths, touching the heavens if you
will, is none other than
time, we have not been creative …

our idea of a good career is limited
to four or five things...”

To tell you the truth, I was hesitant to click it. Did I really want
to hear, what was probably going to be, another lecture on how my
decision to pursue English and Political Science as a career path
was the worst choice I had ever made? No. Did I want to click away
from watching people play with chicks? No. Was I was probably
going to miss out on some good life lessons by ignoring the lecture
by Usthadh Khan? Yes.

… *drum roll* …
Medical school!
Then? Engineering of course!
Not capable of that? You can strive for something a “little bit lower”
and be satisfied with computer science.
Not your thing? Information Technology has got your back!
Really, further inept? That’s okay there’s always accounting.
No math! Well I guess there’s education, but that’s “way at the bottom”
of the totem pole.

So what happens if, god forbid, your child decided to get a Bachelors in History? Ustadh Noman Khan says it the best, “You’ll say, [inSo, begrudgingly, I put on my defensive shield (i.e. the invisible
sert shocked face here] ‘What are you doing?’ Is that why we brought
armour I built over my university career to protect my ego against
you to Amreeka [sic], to study history? No, no, no, forget about history,
aunties who were baffled by my life choices), and with a deep breath
worry about your future.’”
I opened the video.
6 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

Unfortunately, this mentality stems from our supposition that
“these are the careers that are successful.” But the reality is quite
different. As Ustadh Noman Khan puts it, we do live in a “land of
opportunity.” As cliché as this sentiment might sound, the truth is
that other sectors including Academia, media/entertainment, and
entrepreneurships, can actually make for lucrative careers. More importantly, Muslims need not solely enter these fields for monetary
purposes, but rather, should see it as a way to build our influence in
community. Why?

“Why aren’t Muslim’s participating
in telling their own stories?”
It is our mistaken assumption that “if we make good money, buy
a nice house, live in a nice neighborhood, we’ve got success. This is
success for an individual maybe. For a community ...” No. The reality
is that the “vast majority of things that influence you on a day to day
basis … come from the private sector,” including media, business,
and academia.
Universities, especially, “shape the … pillars of this society,” but
how many Muslims are actually in these positions? How many Muslim sociologists, anthropologists, political scientists, and historians
do we have? How come a majority of the Islamic studies courses offered in schools are by and large funded by non-Muslim enterprises?
Why aren’t Muslim’s participating in telling their own stories? Especially through new mediums, such as film production and YouTube,
which Ustadh Noman Khan calls the “language and poetry of our
time”?

“...our spread of influence should
not only extend to the Muslim
community, but rather our voices
should get a strong footing in the
larger society ...”

community,” someone who “influences minds or causes ripples in
society” – a ‘mover and shaker.’In truth, if we are solely doctors and
engineers, we are merely “skilled labourers” – highly skilled and vital to societies of course, but still “workers,” not movers or shakers
that become essential characters in society and cause much needed
changes. Indeed, our spread of influence should not only extend to
the Muslim community, but rather our voices should get a strong
footing in the larger society in general of which we are equal citizens.
In order to do that, we need to penetrate the private sector, become
a part of the social fabric, affirm our influence, and “enter the game.”
After the watching the powerful videos, I felt quite reassured
in my career choice. But I wondered whether I would have to jump
over many obstacles to be a part of the social fabric of my community? Was there going to be no help? I can’t even jump over a puddle, so
how can I be expected to take a leap into this unknown career path?

With some quick Google searches, however, I realized I was not
alone. Rather, I found some amazing homegrown Canadian MusIf we do not engage in this more private and often abandoned lims who are taking this leap everyday, and I have proudly listed
sector, we overlook the opportunity to become a “fabric of the
some of our fellow movers and shakers below.
Name: Maryam Monsef
Occupation: Member of Parliament as
Minister of Democratic Institutions
Bio: Born in Afghanistan but forced to flee
due to internal conflict, Monsef immigrated to Peterborough, Ontario in 1996.
Honourable Mentions: Peterborough’s first
female MP and youngest MP to be elected
Links: https://maryammonsef.liberal.ca

Name: Haroon Siddiqui
Occupation: Editor at The Toronto Star
(now retired)
Bio: Born in Hyderabad, India. Siddiqui
immigrated to Canada and joined the Toronto Star in 1978. He received membership to the Order of Ontario for his work
in building “a broader definition of the
Canadian identity.”
Famous Works: Authored a book titled,
“Being Muslim”

Name: Hamzah Moin
Occupation: Comedian and Digital Media
Specialist
Bio: Hailing from Mississauga, Ontario,
Name: Mohamed Zeyara
Moin is a self-proclaimed satirist who enOccupation: YouTube Personality
joys highlighting when Muslims “do weird
Bio: Taken from his FaceBook page – “Born stuff that aren’t so Muslim-like.”
in Canada. Raised in the city of angels and Famous Works: Maniac Muslims
heroes; Gaza. Mohamed Zeyara is a youth Links: www.maniacmuslim.com
advisor, film maker, and mostly known for
his online educational and motivational
videos. Most of his knowledge is acquired
from the 8 years of experience living in Gaza
City during his adolescence. His videos have
been watched by millions of Muslims and
non-Muslims across the world. Inspiring
youth with motivational and inspiring stories. He completed his Pre-Medical Sciences
and is currently on his path to finishing his
Medical Degree.”
Name: Sudduf Wyne
Famous Works: Inspiration Series
Occupation: Owner and Creator of Salam
Links:
Shop in Mississauga, Ontario.
https://www.facebook.com/mzeyara/
Famous For: Kashmiri Chai and halal
https://www.youtube.com/user/Mzeyara2
Marshmallows!
MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 7

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BY A
HMED

MEZIL

Personal Accomplishment vs. Impact
The Last 10 minutes
I had just completed my appointment as a Teaching Assistant
in the APS111 course (a first-year engineering and communications
course), one of my most humbling teaching experiences. At the end
of our last tutorial, I was in absolute awe of the emotional state the
students had put me in. The round of applause, the genuine thanks
and appreciation, and the sadness knowing that this tutorial was their
last, all moved me to feelings and emotions I had never experienced.
You see, I thought my final speech of appreciation and gratitude
would be enough to wrap things up and call it a term. However, it
didn’t really hit me until the end: The clock hit 12pm, tutorial was
officially over, but for some odd reason, the students were still glued
to their seats. Seeing their sad faces, I knew that there was only ONE
last thing I could offer:

Walking to jumuah prayer after the tutorial, I was thinking
about the different accomplishments I’d achieved in my Life, and
whether any of them had summed up to the level of fulfillment I had
just gained in the last 10 minutes. The answer was, probably none.
When I told my mom about this experience, and the fact that I
didn’t expect to receive such appreciation, my mom’s simple response
was: “Do you know why? Because you did it from your heart”.
We’ve all had personal achievements in our lives. These
achievements could’ve been gaining admission to great schools,
earning high marks in term projects, achieving new fitness goals,
receiving scholarships, and many other things we, individually,
earned. But if you think about it, these achievements are all
self-centered, since “you” are the only one gaining the benefit. I
discovered that to achieve a really fulfilling life is to think beyond
oneself. In other words, one must pursue impact.
Google defines impact as: “to have a strong effect on someone
or something”.
When your work comes from your heart, it results in impact.
Personally, I believe that impact in itself is an obligation upon every
single Muslim. I mean, why do you think charity is the third pillar of
Islam? And I’m not just talking about money, donating a few dollars
every now and then isn’t a problem for many of us alhamdulillah.
I’m talking about donating your time and energy, because time and
energy are two things you can never get back, and that’s the true

An old co-worker once told me “We’re all on this planet to
help one another”. He was absolutely right. If you’re not helping
someone right now, than you’re wasting your time on this
beautiful planet.

Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) once said:

“

A Muslim who plants a tree or sows a
field, from which man, birds and animals can
eat, is committing an act of charity.”
(Muslim)

How to WIN Hearts WW
Did you know that the human heart is mentioned 132 times in
the Quran? From the many verses, we find that the heart is described
as a sentient organ with the capability of feeling, reasoning,
and decision-making. In fact, science itself has proven that the
heart communicates with both the brain and the rest of the body
neurologically, biophysically, biochemically, and electromagnetically.
SubhanAllah!
Basically what I’m getting at is, human beings are nothing
but emotional creatures. The ability to create and nurture genuine
friendships is not based on how well you speak, what your status is,
or how many “followers” you have on Instagram, but merely by your
ability to open your hearts to people. When you open your hearts
to people, people will realize that you are REAL and that you’re not
hiding anything. People will realize that you actually genuinely care
about their feelings, and when they know that, they’ll open their
hearts to you in return.
Back in my undergrad days (and no I’m not 70 years old), I’ve
had many TAs who’d start their class on a very dry note. They’d walk
up to the chalkboard, write off from the piece of paper they were
holding, give some instructions, and that was it. Almost always,
we all forgot those TAs’ names as soon as they walked out of that
tutorial room; OR because they didn’t even introduce themselves in
the first place.
What allowed me to connect with my students was one thing
and ONE thing only: Empathy.
I made it my obligation to learn every student’s name. Because
again, human beings are emotional creatures, and like any one of
us we desire to be valued and recognized. I made it my obligation
to ask my students how they were feeling, or how their week went,
before uttering any word related to the course. After I’d see a couple
of frowny and lazy faces brighten up, I’d begin with the tutorial
material.
Before you speak to someone, *virtually* put your feet into their
shoes, walk a couple of steps, put yours back on, and then speak.
Everyone is fighting a battle that you’re not aware of. In the case of
my students, I had a very good feel of their battles (both mentally
and academically), as I used to be a struggling, lonely, first-year
student once. This allowed me to connect with the students very
easily, and become more of a friend than a teacher.

Empathy is a powerful tool that allows us to connect with each
other at phenomenal levels. Next time you ask someone how they’re
doing, and they respond: “pretty bad…”, please ask “why?” instead
of “ouch, may Allah make it easy for you.”. If you had paid attention,
Allah IS TRYING TO MAKE IT EASY for them through YOU! So
please be there to empathize and not sympathize. If you do so, then
congratulations my friend, you just won yourself a heart!

Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) once said:

“

What actions are most excellent? To
gladden the heart of human beings, to feed
the hungry, to help the afflicted, to lighten
the sorrow of the sorrowful, and to remove
the sufferings of the injured.”
(Bukhari)

Final Note: Pursuit vs. Results
In this Life, people evaluate each other based on results.
However, let’s not forget that Allah (s.w.t), our Creator, and the only
One we should seek to satisfy, is interested only in our pursuit:

“

And that his effort/pursuit is going to be
seen”
Surat Al-Najm (The Star), verse 40

Allah (s.w.t) will not look at your results on Judgement Day,
He is only interested in your pursuit. If we were to create a progress
chart of the amount of people that believed in Prophet Nuh’s
(PBUH) message, over the course of 950 years, I bet you the line on
that chart would look horizontal. But, do you still think that Allah
(s.w.t) would evaluate him by his results? Nay, but by his noble and
determined pursuit!
Therefore, let us strive to pursue the things that really matter in
this life. Material wealth is a great thing to have, but let it not be the
ends but the means towards helping other people to the best of our
abilities, in order to achieve impact.
The Muslim world today is in need of our help like never
before. Darkness has been spread by the hands of mad men who
claim they represent this beautiful religion, and to make matters
worse, the media continues to spread lies to stigmatize the
image of our religion. So tell me then, isn’t THIS TIME the
perfect time to pursue impact? Indeed it is.
It can start in your communities, it can start in
your workplaces, or it can start in your classrooms.
But remember, it all starts from your heart.

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 9

PHOTO // freepik.com

definition of giving.

I

n my experience, there are a few things that I believe to be irrevocably true. First, that it is in our disposition to prefer positive
and happy experiences and to avoid pain or negativity. Second,
that as human beings we are uniquely capable of adapting to many
circumstances that, at first glance, may seem unimaginable. Finally, I believe that if we are reflective and cognizant of our responses
to our struggles, then we have the capacity to gain extremely valuable lessons and to grow in a profound way following difficult life
experiences.

BY HALLA AHMED

When reflecting on the nature of happiness, I find that I am
less concerned with its attainment and more interested in what
holds us back from well-being, from spiritual and psychological
health. The conversation, I feel, is far more profound and engaging
when we shift the perspective from how to be happy to the analysis
of the factors that prevent us from contentment and well-being. I
define contentment as seeking meaning and purpose in our actions and being satisfied with our present life situation, whether
good or bad.
To begin, it is important to recognize that happiness is never
the end-goal. A conversation on â&#x20AC;&#x153;the pursuit of happinessâ&#x20AC;? is already fraught with problematic assumptions, namely, that what we
pursue is the emotion of happiness, and not something else that
might be less transient or fleeting, such as contentment or wellbeing. Right off the bat, we need to get our definitions straight.
Happiness is an emotional state, one of several emotional
states. In psychology, emotion research varies in what are considered to be basic (the core) emotions, but there is some consensus
in the literature that basic emotions consist of happiness, anger,
sadness, disgust, fear and surprise. Similarly, the functions of
emotions have been debated with explanations for the purpose of
emotions ranging from its function as an aid in communication
between human beings to a way for human beings to prepare to
respond to their environment.
No one explanation is right or wrong. However, what has always resonated most with me is that emotions function as a signal
for what is happening in our environment. Many times we feel sad,
anxious, upset, angry or guilty, and opt to either ruminate on these
feelings and feel worse, or suppress these feelings only to have
them build up in a very unhealthy way (with exceptions of course).
In contrast, if we think of emotions as a signal that there may be a
situation in our immediate surroundings that we should be paying
attention to, we can use our emotions to gain better insight into
ourselves and our interactions with others.
Thus, the first significant note is that happiness is one aspect of
the full spectrum that is human emotionality. Our emotions teach
us something about ourselves and how we are engaging with the
world around us. Through reflection, we can harness our emotions
to gain insights and grow. The idea that as human beings we should
seek to experience one emotion -i.e. happiness- disproportionately
more often than all of the other emotions, is a problematic one, because it is saying that happiness is more valuable to human beings
than the other emotions, which is not necessarily true.

10 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

There is much to be gained from moments of sadness, anger,
surprise and fear that cannot be gained from moments of happiness, and vice versa. We often instinctively seek to avoid situations
that may bring us pain or fear or vulnerability, but these are precisely the moments from which we have the most to gain.
It is through facing, experiencing and reflecting on the moments when we are most afraid or hurt or vulnerable that allows us
to gain those valuable life lessons that we use on our path to wellbeing and personal growth. Without these “negative” emotions, we
would lose so much, miss so many opportunities to be better.
Thus, it is not that we should pursue happiness, or as a matter
of fact, any other emotion. It is that we should use these emotions
to tap into the deepest part of ourselves, to understand ourselves,
so that we can grow and excel as individuals. The pursuit is not of
happiness, not of any one fleeting emotional state, but of something much more fulfilling and long-lasting. Happiness is only a
by-product of this fundamentally worthwhile pursuit.
So what is it that we pursue if not happiness? I would argue
that what we seek is contentment and well-being: to find meaning and purpose in our actions, and to develop the highly adaptive capability to be satisfied with the various contexts that we find
ourselves in throughout our lives. I believe that it is through the
pursuit of growth, excellence, purpose and well-being that we are
able to develop the skills and healthy coping strategies that result in
becoming well-adjusted human beings, as well as having positive
experiences like happiness.
In my own experience, I feel that I could only learn what contentment was when I knew what fear was, how it hindered my
growth, and when I was able to embrace vulnerability. This summer, I was thinking through and reflecting on what it means to
be a genuine person, what it looks like to live authentically, and
the role of intentions in achieving this. Through numerous past
experiences, I saw how failing to be authentic with myself and
with others had negatively impacted my well-being. And so I knew
that I wanted to address this issue, as I felt it was something that
was holding me back from my own personal growth. To do this,
I sought out conversations and input from friends who I thought
lived genuinely and courageously according to their own terms,
and were able to be themselves unabashedly, no matter the context
or situation.
In my journey to figuring out what authenticity meant, I can
distinctly remember a defining moment , when a friend of mine
said to me “The worst thing you can ever do to yourself is think
badly of yourself. Especially because there is no reason to.”

Her words were transformative. Thinking on them, I realized
that my fear of imperfection, of being vulnerable, was not warranted whatsoever. The mean and ugly things I thought about myself were not the objective reality that I had conceptualized them
to be in my head. Just because I thought I was flawed or I thought
I wasn’t good enough did not mean that those things were objectively true. My belief in my insecurities or weaknesses did not give
them life or any substance in the real world. They were only alive
and real in my world. It was a transformative moment because it
was as if a very strong spotlight were suddenly cast upon every one
of my supposed weaknesses and insecurities and limitations and I
could finally see them for what they truly were: self-imposed and
only real if I gave them power over me.
This was an enormously liberating realization for me. I could
never be content with who I was and how I engaged with the world
if I did not address the scary things deep down that we all keep
hidden: fears and shame, and flaws and vulnerabilities. And after
this, I was able to re-evaluate all of the episodes in my life that
I viewed as “failures”, and recast them as part and parcel of my
struggle and journey to be a better person, student, daughter, sister, Muslim, etc.
In order to move forward and to grow, it is absolutely imperative that you address what is blocking you, what is holding you
back. More often than not we allow past experiences to exert control over us, to hinder our growth and progress towards well-being.
In order to move forward, sometimes you have to shift your gaze
from the future and onto what surrounds and shackles you from
your present and past.
I would not have learned any of this if I did not tap into my
emotions of fear and shame and sadness. I would not have learned
any of this if I sought to be “happy” as opposed to seeking meaning, purpose, or contentment with who I am and the lot I am given in life. There is a way to be happy, but I contend that it is not
through seeking happiness.
MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 11

BY MUHSANAH AREFIN

remembering

SYRIA
damacus
my memories from

M

y shirt was wrinkled and uncomfortable. It was a tacky,
ugly hot pink that faded into a paler pink. My sister
Safeya always thought that it looked wet. I do not know
what possessed my mother into buying it. Alas, I was stuck on a
street corner waiting for a bus I really did not want to go into. The
streets were oddly empty; not much life. How boring, I mused. The
outside gate of our apartment was lined with jasmine flowers, and
the trees growing on the sidewalk had fall coloured colourful leaves.
The store next to my building sold rice pudding topped with pistachio and ice cream. Although I observed these surroundings, I had
yet to realize how familiar they would become. I stared into space
and ignored my mom’s efforts to reassure me. I was eight at the
time, so I was nervous and upset. At that age, I always cried when I
was nervous. That day, I was very nervous. That day, was the beginning of what would define my experience in Syria.
I wondered what my friends in New York were thinking at the
moment. I sighed. As usual, I disappeared from the country without telling anyone. I wanted to be back at home with my friends and
family. I wanted to be back at home in Ossining. I remember my
Guyanese nani telling my mother her opinion of the whole Syrian
ordeal: “ya das be crazy takin’ dem chil’ren to das crazy, dangerous,
country!” Yet there we were. The truth was, I had just been enrolled
into a private school called Al-Bawadir in Kfar Susah. I eventually developed a love-hate relationship with Al-Bawadir. I would
trade up having to go to school in a country with an anti-American
government (with little Arabic language experience) any day. Yet

12 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

I made friends over there, which I pray to God are safe, that have
changed me greatly as a person despite my young age. Syria is the
reason I am the person I am today; it was the time I learned bravery,
and the time I realized the importance of determination. Living in a
foreign country was no strange territory to me, but the loneliness of
Syria still haunts me today. The images of countdown calendars and
I had an ocean separating myself from my eldest sister, my brother,
and my father. Our very existence in Syria honestly could not get
any sadder.
Every time we went overseas, I would run into every room
quickly scanning details, praying for a working stove, bath, and toilet. Oh yes, about that toilet…. there wasn’t one. Instead we had
a hole. Albeit, it was a very clean hole, but it was still not a toilet.
“MOM!!!!” I hollered, “WHERE IS THE TOILET?!!” Mom, embarrassed by my loud outburst, snapped back: “You’ll just have to learn.”
I couldn’t believe it. “Wha-a-a-at?” I whined back. I was a spoiled
kid; I did not like peeing in holes, no matter how clean they were.
But then again, I was stuck in a country I did not like so far. I had
better make do or I was going to be miserable. And so I learned,
and yet I was still miserable. To this day, my family and I still laugh
together about the entire ordeal.
There were many other details that I grumbled about at the time:
The bath and toilet were separate; the “bath” was just a shower, but
with no walls, so we had to squeegee the water into the drain when
we were done. There was the usual water heating system (switch on,

But what I did not expect, when I first went to Syria, was
being put into a full time school. My mother had never done this to
anyone before. “Why?” I asked, “Why do I have to be the first one?”
A family friend arranged my attendance at the school. Technically,
the school was putting itself in danger. I was an American citizen
and I should not have been there. The principal was a plump woman
who looked stern but spoke intelligently. Like all women in Syria,
she wore a white scarf tucked tightly into her shirt, which looked like
a lab coat that was too long. “Oh God I hope this doesn’t work” I
thought. I had only just started seriously learning Arabic the month
before in Cairo at a learning centre. How in the world did my mom
expect me to go to a full time school where no one spoke English?
I took the placement test, and my Arabic was good enough for the
third grade level, although I was actually in the fourth grade at the
time. Considering that I was a grade ahead anyway, this wasn’t bad.
To my disappointment however, I was accepted into the school and
I started immediately. This would be the building where I would
spend most of my days learning Arabic khadt, shammi, French influenced mathematics, and the Syrian national anthem. All the teachers
were women; they all wore the same white scarves and blue & white
striped lengthy overcoats. Yet the school itself was co-ed; all the students wore sky blue apron looking uniforms with orange ascots and
khaki pants. The school had a courtyard where students would gather
every morning singing the Syrian anthem to the flag. Because I was
attending Al-Bawadir, my experience completely transformed from
what Arefins were used to. My mother and sister were not as immersed in Syrian society as I was. I lived among these children who
did not know anything about American life. And I did not know
anything about them.
And so, we return to the initial scene, where I am standing,
and waiting on a street corner for a bus. I had not been measured for
a uniform, hence my pink shirt. I still remember that misty morning
very clearly; the bus pulled up in front of me and it looked extremely
out of place. In Syria, a country that was not the most “colourful”, I
stood in front of a bus that looked like it was owned by a hippie living in Mumbai, India. The bus monitor came off the bus. My mom
exchanged some broken Arabic with her, trying to explain how I was
scared, and to ask her to please be nice to me, and to please help me,

and to please stay with me. Please, please, please! I gave one last
pleading look to my mom for her not to make me do this, to not get
on a bus alone, in this foreign country, but she would hear none of
it. I walked onto the bus and down the aisle gulping back my tears. I
sat on an outside seat and looked down. I could feel the stares of all
the other children burning into my skull. It’s understandable why the
other kids were staring at me. Besides the pink shirt, I myself looked
different from the rest: I had dark Bengali skin; straight jet black hair,
cut so that I looked like a boy; and was very, very skinny. Syrians did
not look like me. The girls and boys had blonde hair and green/blue
eyes. They were big boned and white. I could not possibly look any
different. “How long am I going to have to endure this,” I wondered.

“

But I did endure it. When we arrived, the students and I walked
in a very straight line along the school gates. The school itself was
very beautiful: the building was white with green trimmings; the
gates were green covered in bright fuchsia-coloured flowers, and the
hallways were so sparkling clean. I looked around with curiosity, but
I also noticed the intense silence. Children in Al-Bawadir were so
disciplined. Previously, I went to a school in southern Westchester
(Mt. Vernon) in New York, where silence was a rare treat. And so
needless to say, I was in complete awe at how good these kids were. I
was separated from the group as the bus monitor brought me to the

“

switch off). The kitchen stove had to be lit with a match (unfortunately for Safeya, who feared fire). I still remember that dimly lit
kitchen; the fridge in the front and the stove in back corner. On the
side there would be a small table where we would eat our breakfast.
The bedroom had one queen size bed where all of us would squeeze
into for five months. To my mother’s dismay and to my happiness
there was a working television with cartoons galore. Every day I
would essentially become a zombie, watching countless cartoons that
would later become memories to remember for the rest of my life. I
think Mom figured that watching TV would get me to shut up about
my lack of, you know, a normal childhood. The living room was split
into the two parts; one section would become my territory, the other
was Safeya’s. She would set her computer on the side near to the
bedroom. Naturally, my territory was where the television was. I
honestly think that my television addiction stems from the times in
Syria. There was literally nothing else to do. What would an American eight year old normally do in Syria? Coming up with an answer
is actually pretty hard. For my mother, it was television. I ate in front
of the TV. I did my homework in front of the TV. I even stared at
the TV when it was off! I sincerely hope the level of boredom I was
feeling then is made clear here.

But what I did not expect,
when I first went to
Syria, was being put into
a full time school.
My mother had never
done this to
anyone before.

principal’s office, where it would be determined whose class I would
be in. The school placed me in a class where the teacher spoke the
most fus-ha (classical/formal Arabic). I called her Ansay, which was
the slang term for Aa-ni-sa meaning “Miss”.

I remember Ansay being the least plump teacher and the
kindest in the school. Although the entire faculty made an effort to
be gracious towards me, she had the warmest smile. Throughout my
time at Bawadir, she made sure I was happy. I cannot imagine what
a challenge I was to her. I spoke no shammi, only broken fus-ha.
And she did not speak one word of English. I really have no idea
how I managed to communicate back then. Class had already started
when I entered. I was furious with my luck. “Why did I have to come
in like this,” I thought incredulously. Once again, I felt the stares.
As a shy girl, this was not a good situation to be in. The classroom

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 13

was very neatly organized. There were three rows of bench-desks.
The teacher’s desk was on the left side and the room was completely
white. The school looked like something out of a movie. Everything
was arranged so perfectly and everything was so formal. Coats and
bags were hung up neatly on the right wall. Clean chalkboards were
spread across the front wall. What a difference it was to be here. My
school in New York was run down; in the basement of a low budget mosque where the walls were a gross green color and it always
smelled of bleach.
Ansay asked three girls in the middle row to move over for me.
They seemed visibly annoyed to have to make space for such a weird
looking girl. Every bench had exactly three people; therefore there
was literally no place for me. As if my social lack of place in Syrian
society was not distressing enough! And just like that, class continued as if nothing happened. I started to silently cry but made sure no
one noticed. I had been holding it in for so long. I cannot remember
the rest of the day; I was simply a vessel moving through the motions
that day. I was so focused on trying not to cry that I barely paid attention to my surroundings after a while.

ing to go home. My studies entailed the following: ‘uloom (science),
riyadiy’yat (math), khadt (Arabic calligraphy and script), lughat alarabiyya (the Arabic language), ingliziya (English), and computers
once a week. Obviously, English had been my forte considering the
level they were at was roughly that of American kindergarten. Everything else was done in Arabic only. My mother still boasts to others
about how I learned the respiratory and digestive systems in Arabic.
The wonderful thing about math was that it was universal…or so I
thought. The European way of adding fractions was like trying to
do calculus. The only thing I succeeded in truly was khadt, the art
of writing Arabic. Let’s just say other Arefins’ handwritings pale in
comparison to mine today.

“

As assembly concluded, students obediently returned to their respective classrooms. After the first day, a spot had been made for me
in the front seat of the far left row of white benches. I received textbooks & notebooks, was measured for my uniform in the basement
of the school, was given many instructions, and so on. It became
very overwhelming. It is not that the school was particularly bad; it
was actually very wonderful. The school was wealthy, prestigious,
clean, organized, and had a great reputation; basically everything my
school in New York wasn’t. But there is something terribly lonely
about overcoming a language barrier. In my first month, there were
a lot of hand gestures and broken English, but mostly silence. I refused to adjust in my first month. Instead, I spent my days wait14 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

“

When I finally got home, I cried and cried and cried, begging my mom not to send me back. She felt bad of course, like she
usually did. However, this was one decision she never went back on.
And for that reason, Syria became my true beginning for studying
Arabic. For the rest of my time in Syria, I learned what it meant to
struggle by oneself. No matter how much people helped me, there
was only so much they could do. I had to adjust on my own and that
was that.
******
As I gradually got used to school, I got into a routine. In the
mornings, I would go, along with the rest of my class, from the bus to
the classroom to the courtyard for assembly. It was in this courtyard
where I learned to sing the Syrian anthem everyday while looking up
to the obscenely large photo of Bashar Al-Assad. I felt very confused;
I did what I was told every time and I sang, but it felt wrong. I was
an American and I felt as if I was abandoning that, even if just temporarily. The anthem is only a vague tune in my memory now, but I
cannot forget the mornings I stood in a militaristic-like line with my
hand upon my heart. It would be years until I realized, however, the
image of Bashar Al-Assad in the courtyard had an eerie presence in
the school. I was a taboo in Syria, a foreigner among the people. I
was not supposed to be there, under the watchful eye of the dictator.
Twelve years later, as I watch the horrid actions of Bashar Al-Assad
today, I can’t help but think back to those days. As an American
child, I could hardly understand the reasons why the Syrian people
lived in fear. But the image of Al-Assad now proves this point: how
could one not live in fear where there are eyes everywhere?

After school I had a private teacher come to our apartment to
help me with my homework. When I first met her, she looked like
most typical religious Syrian women. She wore a blue jilbab and a
white hijab tied so that it looked almost like an ascot attached to a
scarf. This type of clothing implied a certain level of religiosity. Out
of all the people I met those five months, she was certainly the sweetest. Those Syrians whom let me in proved to have such big hearts.
Every day, she was patient with me, even though I was a restless eight
year old. But I grew to really like her. In all of my experiences, it was
the people I met that defined the country in my mind. The only way
I was able to survive those long months was because I had teachers I
could appreciate.

The school looked
like something out of
a movie. Everything
was arranged so perfectly and everything
was so formal
...What a difference
it was to be here.

As time passed, while I didn’t realize it, I was really starting to
learn Arabic. Little by little I learned phrases in shammi and my
classmates opened up to me. I was pleasantly surprised by how my
classmates were fascinated that I was American. “Oh! Oo’ly kilma
wahda fil enjleezy! (Hey! Say one word in English!)” one girl asked
me with wide eyes. I would always laugh and ask what she wants me
to say. Once I started to learn how to speak with the kids around me,
I became less of an outsider and more of an object to be “ohh-ed”
and “ahh-ed” at. As a shy kid, I was never really in the spotlight at
home. I liked the attention and I finally started smiling again. If the
students had not opened up to me, I don’t think I could have made
it. They were bright kids, always emanating light and joy. To me, we

“

“

were a funny looking bunch. I stood out because of whom I was. But
I was able to blend in a little bit because of our outrageous uniforms.
It was quite laughable how I had moved from a tacky pink shirt to
a tacky blue apron. I couldn’t decide which of my getups was worse.

And as we see the
breakdown of a nation, everyone (including myself)
should never forget
the humanity and
dignity of the Syrian
people.

The day I realized my classmates had become my feisty
friends, was a touching one. More than halfway through my time in
Syria, I had gotten pretty comfortable with my role in class as “The
American.” Things had finally started going my way: I was practically fluent in shammi, classes were going well, and I wasn’t standing
alone during recess. There were still these two girls who always gave
me dirty looks though, and never really talking to me. They were
the ones that were asked to move aside on my first day at Bawadir.
It is quite ironic how fate taunts us. One day, I was sitting with my
friends in the front of the classroom chatting about my drawing ability when suddenly I felt them glaring at me. One of the girls pointed
at me, “Why are you guys talking to her? She’s new and different.” I
was shocked. No one had ever been so blunt to me. Before I said
anything, the friends surrounding me cried in outrage. “We like her!
Go away! What do you want?” Again, shocked! No one in New York
ever did that for me. They grumbled and left. This continued for a
few days until finally they came around and apologized. They had
grown tired of being isolated from the class. I smiled and said it was
okay. This story seems like a cliché -out of a Disney Channel Movieexperience, but I swear it happened! I’ll never forget the girl who
spoke in my defense. Her name has long escaped my memory now,
but her actions have remained in my mind. A Syrian girl considered
the feelings of an American girl. It was truly a moment reflective of
what it meant to live in another country; one doesn’t connect with a
culture, but rather with the people.
From those days going forward, I was able to get by. My
memories of Bawadir are now scattered, and it is difficult to remember every detail. Some days, I recall small, random details. Every
day, I had spent a 25L coin to buy chocolate filled croissants from the
courtyard café. I still remember the taste of that large pastry; warm
and moist. Other times, I recall my classmates getting noisy when
we had “computer class” in the basement; a true treat to us. Back in

2003, computers were not a common household item, even in the
States. In English class, we stood and sang lame English songs that I
had never heard of. In script class, my teacher beamed at me every
time. I can barely remember her face; instead I retained the memory
of her sweet smile. I remember the “school store” in the corner of
the courtyard where I bought a shabby looking green-plaid pencil
case. On another day, I remember our class was scolded for being so
loud. It’s as if the scary teacher who reminded me of Ms. Trunchbull
from Matilda appeared before us. She started to yell at us, and we all
put our heads down. I started to cry out of fright, although I knew I
probably wasn’t the one in trouble.
A day on the bus has always stood out to me; so much that it is
referred to as the “infamous battatus story” in my family. A blonde,
blue-eyed boy from my class has always stood out because he was
loud and funny. Most Syrians are not loud. On the bus that day, the
Mrs. Trunchbull-like-teacher yelled at us again, so we were silent.
Then suddenly: “la…la…la…” The bus monitor’s eyes popped out,
“Meen’ili gun-ni?? (Who is singing?)”
Everyone began to giggle as the tension melted away. The bus
monitor said again: “Who is SINGING?!”
The boy started to sing louder and louder. The bus monitor stomped toward him and pulled him by the ear. “esh inta?
Inta’btigan-ni mithlal battatus? (What are you? You singing like potatoes or something?)”
The bus burst out laughing as the tension disappeared into thin
air. The boy grinned while wincing from the pain of having his ear
pulled. Then he sang “battatus~ battatus~! (Potato, Potato)” The
laughing increased. Then the bus monitor giggled. It was simply
too much! I mean, potatoes? It didn’t make sense, but it was funny
because we all needed a laugh. Just as the bus monitor was about
to scold the boy, he exclaimed, “Ah! Shoffy ‘ankaboot hon! (Look,
a spider is here!)” The bus monitor shrieked and let go of his ear.
He sped away and got off the bus onto his stop. The bus burst into
another round of laughter. The bus monitor laughed and blushed as
she realized that there was no spider to be found.
These memories will remain with me, and however insignificant and random, I cannot forget them, because to me, they are the
proof I have for myself that I was let into Syria. Behind Syria’s cold
thick surface was its ability to produce warmth and wonder for me.
I was let into their private rooms where laughter can be heard. It is
a reminder that, however short my time with the Syrians, I was able
to learn the language that tricked the Bus monitor that there was
no spider on the floor. I was able to experience what it felt like to
smile in Syria. I hated being in Syria. But I never hated the people.
I couldn’t.
******
This part of my life is very personal for me. But I wanted to
share it at this time due to the recent refugee crisis. As the story of
the Syrian people spreads across social media, I sensed a danger in
the way we perceive refugees. We see the destruction that this war
has on these people, we may risk dehumanizing an entire society.
Syrians have their own stories, their own past, and their own culture. And as we see the breakdown of a nation, everyone (including
myself) should never forget the humanity and dignity of the Syrian
people.
MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 15

Previously in:

Faith in the
University

“...Your secular education can become
a spiritual experience, it really can.
Especially the humanities can. But
that depends on whether or not you
have a decent grounding [in Islam],
because if you did you’re going to
find so much meaning in it.”

“When science is divinely guided, we’re going to
produce solutions for humanity, they’re not just going
to worry about them making some money, and the
same thing’s going to happen to an artist.”
Q: I guess you could say it’s a “balanced
education,” what you’re talking about, and
the thing with this is that the Muslim
community as a whole tends to lean more
towards the sciences than the arts; arts
studies being seen as inferior and, more than
anything, useless to the community. What
is your opinion on creative expression and
humanities studies in the Muslim community,
and what place do you think that they have?
What is their importance for Islam and the
Muslim community?
So already I’ve been a student of Quran for the last, almost 15
years okay, and I’ll just start with some Islamic history. The Quran
was considered divine because the Arabs new poetry really well and
they knew the limits, the artistic limits, of poetry and they knew
that the way this Quran is articulating itself is far beyond these
human limits. In other words if they didn’t have artistic sensibility,
they would not appreciate the divine beauty of the Quran. So the
first people who appreciated the Quran’s divine origin could not
have done so had they not had an artistic sense. That should in and
of itself tell you the value of art and the value of poetry and the value
of humanities.
Now, I believe that we emphasize and glorify the sciences in
the Muslim community over and above the humanities studies,
which is actually an indication of where we are as a civilization,
you know at the end of the day when you study the sciences if you
ask any parent who’s pushing their child to go be a doctor or be an
engineer or whatever it may be, the rationale behind it is, “I want
them to have a stable job.” In other words you want to create an
entire generation of people that are good employees, that make
good money but at the end of the day they’re going to be employees.
And at the end of the day science, as awesome as it is and I respect
science a lot, it’s skill labour is what it is, whether you’re working in
a lab or you’re in a hospital doing surgery, you’re performing some
kind of labour that requires some kind of expert skill, so I like to
boil it down to skill labour.
Now, the humanities are actually engagement of human
thought, they don’t teach you labour, like that’s why you’re critics

will come and say, “You’re doing English? What are you going to do
with that?” Like they’ll literally say, what are you going to do with that,
right? Because education is no longer about thought, the cultivation
and development of thought, it’s about doing work, doing some
kind of labour. Both of these are acknowledged and respected in our
religious tradition especially in the Muslim ummah. But the problem
is, to me the problem is, today the sciences are being studied devoid of
divine guidance, and today the humanities are being studied devoid
of divine guidance. And when you study science without divine
guidance than you have no problem producing weapons, and you
have no problem producing foods that you can produce artificially
even if they’re harmful in the long run. You have no ethical gauge
of how you’re going to use that science. Similarly when you study
the humanities without a spiritual ground, and a revealed grounding
then your humanities will lead you to produce art that is obscene, it
may lead you to produce literature that is offensive to others or may
actually take people away from their purpose in life, immerses people
in the frivolous and wastes their lives away, etc. etc. You know both
these forces, arts and sciences, they actually are blind, on their own
they’re blind, but give them eyes it reveals of why I am learning this.
I’m learning this to do something good for the world.
When science is divinely guided, we’re going to produce
solutions for humanity, they’re not just going to worry about them
making some money, and the same thing’s going to happen to an
artist. Art is being used for a lot of evil in the world, let’s just face it.
Just like science is, art is used for a lot of evil too, it doesn’t matter
if you’re Muslim or non Muslim when you’re studying these things,
whether or not you’re inspired by the Quran, and not every Muslim
is inspired by the Quran, right? So my argument is both of these
can produce wonderful good, the key component though is we’ve
become material. And this is actually, we are just by-products of the
French and the European revolution, the renaissance, when science
eventually was the alternative to the church, it was the new religion,
it is the highest form of learning and all the nations of the world that
have been colonized, and if you’re children from nations that have
been previously colonised, you will notice that a scientific career is
almost worshipped. It is a historical social backdrop against which
this happened; this didn’t come out of a vacuum.

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 17

Q: My next question is about the place of
the university as a whole. right now, the
university is, like you said, pretty much a job
factory. But what place do you think that
the university should have, ideally, in the
Muslim community?
I think the Muslim community, I mean I have weird thoughts on
this, I’ll just tell you what they are. I think that the North American
Muslim community has an opportunity to spark a renaissance in the
Muslim world or around the world, but I don’t think they should
be thinking about themselves as much as they should be thinking
about what their contributions are going to be to the world over.
We have certain advantages here like university education, like the
opportunity of free speech, like safety and security that much of
the Muslim world doesn’t enjoy. And a renaissance in a civilization
comes when people don’t shun away from any form of learning, they
learn everything and they bring goodness to everything that they
learn. So that’s, I think, a role that the Muslims in the US, particularly
in the US, are going to have to learn to play. Like how do you balance
reason and revelation? How do you balance a modern education
and this timeless faith together? Because the world is clearly out
of balance right, either you have to pick the side of religion or you
have to pick the side of anti-religion, you can’t have both together.
We can actually be a working model for what that looks like and an
inspiration for the world over.
Now the university plays certainly an essential role in that and
right now even though our communities are more obsessed with
raising funds to have enough money for a masjid, or you know, when
does Ramadan begin, we have to start thinking big. If you don’t really
think big you’re going to be in the same rut and you’re going to be
having the same conversations 30 years from now and things won’t
get better they’ll only get worse. You know my teacher used to say
that when you’re a mountain climber and you throw your hook, you
anchor up high so that you can climb up the rope; the height that
you will climb depends on how high you threw the hook. In other
words the higher you set your goals, that’s how far you’re going to be
able to go.
So I think there’s a problem of vision right now. We have to
invest in our youth, we have to invest in our writers, we have to
invest in our film producers, I argue if the Muslim community had
Steven Spielberg he probably would’ve been a doctor. You know, if
we had Shakespeare he probably would’ve gone into accounting. We
don’t encourage the furthering of the arts and thought, not realising
that it is actually these people that shift attitudes for entire nations,
this time the entire world. Attitudes towards life towards justice and
towards what should be glorified and what’s acceptable comes from
film, like clearly it does, so film producers are way more powerful
than the doctors, than an engineer. Engineers are cool, I mean they
save lives, I love them, but let’s understand where change in society’s
coming from, and where are the Muslims in those spheres? Where
18 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

are the leading political theorists who are Muslims? Where are the
Muslims who are leading the sphere of anthropology or sociology
or psychology for that matter? Or the arts or film; we have to pave
the way, we really, really do. And the world needs it, it’s not just
the Muslim community, the world’s out of whack. Because religion
has been demonized and when you take religion out of the picture
all you have left is this arbitrary morality that is going to lead you
down a much darker path. So on the one hand you have this weird
twisted interpretation of religion and on the other hand you have
this twisted human being left to their own devices, both of which
are really bad places to be, and the only people who have a chance
to be in the middle is us, and if we don’t rise to that occasion we’re
answerable I think.
Q: outside of just being a job factory, the
other major role that the university plays
is basically that of a mating ground. It’s
where a lot of people go to find spouses
and for Muslim women in particular this
is difficult. a lot of sisters are pushed into
getting degrees and if they don’t come out
with a husband as well then that’s a failure
of its own. So what would you say to help
young Muslims who are looking to navigate
these two areas?
You guys have it so bad, I feel so bad for you, I do. It was so
much easier when I was in college back in 1875, when I was in
college things were so simple. Oh my god things are complicated
now. You would ask some guy about, “you know who that sister
is? Ok so can you ask some other sister?” You reach out to their
family and before you know it things are done, it’s settled. It wasn’t
complicated. Now you have this, like, you can’t trust anyone,
what’re they really like. Then you have the Facebook thing, you
check out their profiles, this and that and everybody’s checking
out everybody, it’s just so bad! And it’s demeaning actually, I find it
demeaning. There used to be beauty and a dignity to this process
and it’s been taken away. And it’s a little bit of an Islamic sprinkling
on top but it’s basically the dating culture is what it’s become.
Everybody checking out everybody else. You know the family is the
most noble institution in Islam, it is what human beings were given
while they were in jannah, Adam was in jannah and he was given
a spouse. This is a sacred institution on and everything around it
should be honoured except honour has been taken away from it.
It’s supposed to be something beautiful it’s turned into something
ugly. And it’s probably actually bad before it even begins, so how
do you expect it to be good after?
Now, as far as finding a good person in your life is concerned, I
personally don’t think there’s anything un-Islamic, and I’m quoting
my teacher here now, my teacher Dr. Nadwi, who’s a muhadith,
says, it’s okay Islam doesn’t say you can’t fall in love, and Islam
doesn’t say you can’t like a girl or like a boy, its fine. Islam just says

go about it in the right way. In other words if you find someone
you like then other social stigma that are associated with it, like
they’re not the same career as you, or they’re not the same ethnicity
as you, all the stuff is whatever. Especially for Muslims living in a
minority all this stuff is nonsense it makes no sense at all. What
culture, what are you talking about? You kid likes pizza better than
they like biryani. They’d rather not eat baklava, they’d rather eat
Burger King. We have these cultural norms which we have, for all
practical purposes, abandoned but we still want to hold on to for
our children, and that’s got to stop. Even for yourself don’t pigeon
hole yourself into, “I have to have this kind of a husband” or “I have
to have a linear life, meaning I’m going to finish college and then
I’m going to get married and then” those might happen. But if a
good opportunity comes around, if a good spouse comes around
that you know you can have a good life with then pursue it, pursue
it the right way but pursue it, don’t let it go like, “you know after
college”. How do you know you’re going to be around after college?
How do you know they’re going to be around after college? How
do you know that opportunity will still be there, you don’t know
anything! If good comes your way don’t turn it away, take it!
And I would even urge (I know parents won’t be reading this)
but I think parents also need to develop a more open mind when
considering especially their daughters’ opinion. If you trust your
daughter enough to send her to university you should trust her
enough to at least give her recommended guy a shot, a real shot
instead of just bouncing off the walls and saying, “how could this
day have happened, how could you have proposed that you should
marry this guy?” We have this over reaction that we just have to
chill out and get over and move on. Because, you know, we’ve made
this subject so taboo in our families that when the guys and girls
are dating and they’re doing stuff, they’re doing their stuff ‘cause
you can’t ignore your feelings, and “I know my parents won’t be
able to handle it so I gotta do something,” and there’s this under
cover, underground lifestyle of the Muslim youth in college that
exists. I mean I know it exists, I’m not theorizing, you know it
exists and I know it exists, the problem is why it exists.

We don’t openly deal with our problems, how many kids are able
to have an open conversation with their parents about marriage?
How many parents are open to marriage before you finish college?
“No no no you have to finish college first!” really? Go four years
of school with all the temptations around you, for 4 years in every
single class and not get married? Seriously? So there’s a multi-faceted
conversation about getting married early possibly if you’re ready, if
you’re mature enough. How you develop maturity in young men
and women? How do you navigate college life while guiding your
chastity, your modesty, which I think is the biggest thing under
attack. And the one thing, if you walk away from college and not
have your chastity tarnished, you’ve succeeded in life. You’ll be all
right. I could rant forever.
Q: my next question kind of goes in the
same vein: there is a general idea that once
you leave university, that’s it, you are, or
you should be, a responsible functioning
adult, But that’s almost never the case. for
Muslims in particular, many students have
that linear mindset that, “once I graduate
them I’m going to get married and live an
independent life,” so this can be a serious
problem. so what do you think is the
intersection between the university and the
home? how should the university work to
create mature, functioning adults outside of
just the intellectual sphere?

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 19

The university’s not going to create mature adults, it’s your
company that’s going to give you maturity. I argue that what gave me
maturity was that I was working full time as I was going to college.
You have a lot of college kids that are going full ride from their
parents, you’re going to school, cutting out of class, dropping out,
changing your major 8 times, how are you mature? I don’t care if
you’re 35, you’re not mature. You’re not a man. You have to ensure
work responsibility, real-life responsibility to kids that are adult
age, you have to start treating them like an adult. Like you have to
contribute towards your own education, you have to pay towards it
yourself, this is you investing in yourself, not all of it should be a
free ride. And when we spoon feed our children and you get used to
being spoon fed like that, you know what, you get this entitlement
mentality that you even bring into a marriage. So when you get
married you’re like, “what are you doing for me?” and you’re not

thinking what are you doing for the other, ever. It’s just about yourself
and your feelings about your preferences and what you like and what
you don’t like.
So I think I’d say once somebody is 18 they should seriously
be involved in the work force they should be doing something to
be contributing to community, developing a sense of, “there’s other
people that are important in the world other than myself.”Be part
of something more than yourself that prepares you for family life.
And these youth years before you get married, these are the years
of you being a contributor because once you get married financial
responsibilities hit; maybe babies are on the way, maybe the job
becomes full time and all that, you’re going to disappear from the
community for a little while ‘cause you’re going to be too busy with
your own family and our work. So you have these college years, after
high school, actually do something for the world, and you have to do
it. When people don’t do it then they go to college and they come
home and they spend 8 hours on the PlayStation, that’s
what they do, that’s their contribution in life, they’re
consumers and wastes of space.
So we have to instil this kind of activism among
youth, to be part of Islamic activities, go join like
Habitat for Humanity or something, go do something
good! And that will build maturity and that will actually
build the kind of character in you that makes you
attractive to others anyway. Good people are attracted to
good people. When you become part of good thing you’re going to be
around other people who want to do good things, and thus you’ll find
insha’Allah good matches, that’s how things naturally happen. There’s
an old Arabic saying which the equivalent in English is, “birds of a
feather flock together”; when you’re part of good things you’re going
to be around people who also want to do good, you know. That’s how
you find a good spouse, you’re not going to find a good spouse at club
hours, sitting across from the pizza that you ordered at the MSA, that’s
not where you find a good spouse *laughing*.

Jazak’allah Khair to Ustadh Nouman Ali Khan and the Bayyinah
Institute for taking time to answer our questions! Check out the
TMV Blog to see the Ustadh’s answers to some questions from the
MSA community!
20 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

ARTICLE AUTHOR/CATEGORY

the

INSERT SUB-HEADING
ISLAMIC
WAYIF HAVE ONE
to a
gpa
4.0
BY AATINA ABID MUNIR

The more we focus in our salah, the better we
will be able to concentrate on our school work.

A quick Google search will show you that ‘lack of focus’ is
the greatest problem that students of our generation face. Unlike generations of the past, we are a generation that is constantly
distracted. Science shows that the best way to improve focus is
through practicing meditation. Extensive research has shown
that meditation can improve concentration manifold and students who incorporate some form of meditation in their everyday
routines have consistently performed better in their academics in
comparison to those who do not meditate. The brain is a muscle
that, when exercised properly, can be trained to remain focused,
attentive, and effective. How lucky are we that meditation has
been prescribed to us five times a day through salah? The more
we focus in our salah, the better we will be able to concentrate
on our school work. Perhaps, that is the reason why the words
“Come towards Salah, Come towards Success” are included in
our call to prayer.

In addition to meditation, fasting can also be used as a technique to improve grades. When completing our prescribed fasts,
most of us spend our days sleeping and, if we are awake, we become lazy and lethargic as we wait for the maghrib adhan. How,
you may wonder, can fasting possibly improve our performance?
Mark Mattson, a professor at Johns Hopkins University and the
current Chief of the Laboratory of Neurosciences at the National
Institute of Aging, is one of the foremost researchers in the area
of cellular and molecular mechanisms underlying neurodegenerative diseases. Talking about the revolutionary benefits of fasting,
he says that fasting is a physical and psychological challenge for
the brain; it elicits many of the same changes that happen during
vigorous exercise. It stimulates the production of neurotrophic
factors such as BDNF and FGF which promote the growth of axioms and dendrites, the formation and strengthening of synapsis
and the production of new neurons from stem cells (neurogenesis). Our brains, thus, become more efficient and promote faster
learning. SubhanAllah!
PHOTO // JOHN SMITH

H

ow many times have we been told and taught that
the solution to all of our problems—whether they
be related to work, family life, spiritual or physical
well-being—can be found in the Quran and the sunnah of the
Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him? When faced with a
difficult or seemingly unsolvable problem, however, how many
of us actually depend, first and foremost, on the Quran and the
sunnah? As students, in particular, how can we use the teachings of the Quran and the sunnah to perform better and thrive
academically?

Islam teaches us to persist, persevere and never give up.
The Quran says: “Surely Allah is with those who persevere’ and
that “Man can have nothing but what he strives for. His efforts
shall be seen and rewarded to the fullest extent” (Surah An
Najm 53:39-41). So, wake up for fajr. Concentrate in your salah.
Be sincere in your fasts. Be persistent in your acts of worship.
Repeatedly ask Allah for help in attaining success and inshAllah we will all be on our way to getting 4.0 GPAs very soon.

MARCH 2016 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | 21

The
Slippery
Slope
between
Financial
Security
and
Materialism
22 | THE MUSLIM VOICE | MARCH 2016

BY RABIA SOHAIB

To answer the question of whether money can buy happiness, let me ask you a series of questions.

1. Did you sulk over your parent’s refusal
to purchase an item you really, really wanted?
2. Did you ever feel sad that you could
not afford toys/vacations/ clothes that others
around you could?
3. Did you feel overjoyed when you were
finally able to get some thing from the market
that you had your eye on?
4. Does money give you a sense of freedom?
If you nodded yes to the four questions above, then don’t
fret, its normal. Although as we grow older and our preferences
change; we might not feel the same amount of joy on being able
to buy ice cream or a toy, but we do feel happiness and satisfaction when we are able to afford a given lifestyle for ourselves or
our families. Indeed, our whole lives are often guided to the end
of making money to earn a decent standard of living. Since we
are born, many of the activities we pursue or at times are made
to pursue are for the quest of money. We are sent to good schools
and encouraged (in the case of desi families even threatened)
to get good grades so that we can get into a good university or
college. In college we are always in a race, competing with our
classmates, participating in competitions and extracurricular
activities, so that we can get a good job. At work we are pitted
against our co-workers for raises and promotions, completing
extra hours for extra pay. In truth, the quest for monetary satisfaction does not end. Some, like me, even return to school with
the primary motivation being my ability to increase my earning
potential. By choosing to study at Rotman, I invested $100,000
and 2 years of my life to increase my success rates for higher incomes. Nevertheless, even with all this grueling work, having

money at the end of the day to spend on necessities still lead to
happiness. For example, when I finished my undergraduate and
started working, every item I was able to purchase for my family and myself gave me immense joy because I was able to afford
a higher standard of living than I was when I was in school. In
truth, having money and the discretion to spend it as I wished
made me … happy. So have we just proved that money really can
buy happiness? Unfortunately, it’s more complicated than that.
Psychologists state that to a certain point money does indeed
lead to happiness. However, that is only till basic necessities are
met. Once basic necessities like adequate food and shelter are satisfied, money does not lead to a substantial increase in happiness.
According to a study conducted on US residents by Princeton
University’s Woodrow Wilson School, money and happiness have
a positive correlation up till an annual income of $75,000. Why
such a specific number? It was found that with an annual salary
of $75,000 provided families with a decent standard of living in
America, where necessities and minimal luxuries were fulfilled.
Importantly, they also noted that those individuals who earn a
salary of more than $75,000 are not any happier than those who
earn a salary of $75,000. In essence, once a level of financial security meets basic necessities, money does not lead to a substantial
increase in happiness. Rather, there is evidence of inverse where
extreme levels of monetary acquirement and privilege lead to a
whole range of problems. Numerous studies have found that too
much wealth results in people giving themselves too much of a
good thing. As a result, the marginal joy received from an activity decreases overtime when committed in excess. Just like our
parents warned us that eating too much ice cream is a cause of a
joyless stomach ache, so is indulging ourselves in too much wasteful spending a cause for joyless outcomes; especially dangerous is
over-spending – going beyond ones means to satisfy our desires
in hopes of happiness can have the opposite outcome of an unhappy debt-filled life. Thus, finding a balance between financial
security and materialism is key. Islam gives perfect guidelines to
help us achieve this balance. Islam teaches us to achieve a balance by constantly reminding us that this world is temporary.
Thus, we are told not to fall in love with money, but rather
encouraged to distribute extra wealth through charity. Recently,
numerous studies have proven that charity actually makes you
happier. Giving not just makes us happier but is also good for
our health! In his book ‘Why Good Things Happen to Good
People,’ Stephen Post talks about how giving has proven increased health benefits in people with chronic illness including HIV and multiple sclerosis. And lets not forget the Thawab
that is promised in the hereafter, something that can really put
a smile on one’s face! In this way, money does not just lead to
happiness for an individual and their family but also for others.
Alhamdulillah, we have been blessed with the opportunity to bring happiness to our lives by spending our money
on causes that are in dire need of our help; from those suffering due to the Syrian refugee crisis, to those in Gaza and Afghanistan. Inshallah, our acts of charity, however little or
large, can bring happiness to the lives of others and ourselves.

PHOTO // JONATHAN COHEN

H

appiness is a topic that has been heavily debated,
discussed and researched since the beginning of
time, yet any concrete answer detailing the root
of joy seems fleeting. One supposed cause that has persisted to
baffle researchers of this topic is the association between happiness and money. On the surface level, it seems quite wrong to
consider happiness as a commodity that can be purchased only
by those that have the means to do so, leading many to the assumption that money cannot buy happiness. Nevertheless, evidence shows that the worlds happiest countries are developed
countries, where average household income and consequentially
the standard of living is much higher than that in developing and
underdeveloped nations. So is there truth to the claim: people
who say money cannot buy happiness didn’t know where to shop?